Not the System You Know
by Flight of Insanity
Summary: A collection of short stories about what happens inside my computer on a daily basis.
1. Memory Allocation

Absently tapping his data pad on his hand, Vis' mind was a thousand miles away (to use a user term for it). As system administrator, it was his job to keep everything in the system running smoothly. Something caught him from his thoughts, and he looked around curiously. There shouldn't have been anyone else there – it was _his_ office, after all – but he was sure he heard a noise.

Frowning slightly, he walked over to the door. It swished open and he peered down the hallway… Nothing.

Making a thoughtful humming sound, he turned left and started walking. Memory allocation was this way and, knowing his user, if there was a problem, it was probably there. As he came up to the bay window that overlooked the area, he glanced down and noticed a rather confused program standing in front of the guards.

Sighing, Vis trekked down the stairs to the lower level. He was fairly certain an auxiliary program had just been sent to fetch him from his office, and would be looking for him. Apparently he had become a psychic at some point in his existence.

The guards snapped to attention at his arrival, and the other program turned around, surprise plastered all across his face.

Vis glanced at all three before addressing one of the guards, "Is there a problem?"

The guard opened his mouth to answer, but the new program cut him off, "I'm supposed to get into this memory, but they won't let me!"

Vis raised one eyebrow, "Are you now?"

The program nodded vigorously. Vis looked at the guards.

One immediately jumped to explain, "He _was_ instructed to access this memory, but it was not allocated for his use."

Vis sighed; this wasn't even close to the first time he'd heard that. Pulling out his data pad, he typed in a command. Somewhere in the user world, a dialogue box popped up, saying that the program had stopped working. He then turned to the new program and said, "I'm not entirely sure where you're supposed to go, but I do know that you can't go here." He made a shooing motion with his hands, "Now run along, the user knows there was a mistake."

The program, looking slightly dejected, turned around and marched himself back out.

One of the guards turned his head to look at Vis, "I thought Users didn't make mistakes."

Vis shook his head and chuckled, "If only that were true…"

The guards looked mildly confused, and Vis was about to explain, when none other than the same program from earlier came marching back in.

The three already present watched curiously as the blue-green circuited program marched right up to the guards, ignoring Vis, and declared "Greetings! I need access to this memory!"

Vis made a throat-clearing noise, and the program turned around.

"Didn't I just tell you you didn't have access to this memory?"

The program paused and then gave a half shrug and a sheepish smile, "Maybe?"

Vis sighed through his nose, "What's your name, program?"

"Number-Four," the program replied simply.

Oh… That explained it. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, the admin keyed in the same command as before. That done, he addressed Number-Four, "Once again, you weren't given this memory, and you don't have the clearance to access it. The user has been informed."

The program, looking dejected once again, turned on his heel and left.

The same questioning guard, now looking a mixture of confused and alarmed asked "What was that about?"

Vis responded without looking at the guard, "A programming error. There are errors the Compiler won't catch (even if he won't admit it), so we have to wait until the user figures it out."

There was a pause, before the guard simply replied, "Oh…"

Vis was about to respond when, once again, Number-Four marched back in, looking like he was on top of the world. He planted himself in front of the guards and cheerfully rattled off "Greetings! I need access to this memory!"

The admin pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, "It's far too early for this…"

* * *

><p>AN: Just a quick little story about what I like to imagine goes on in my computer when I make arrays go outside their boundaries when I'm programming.

There will probably be more of these to come! :)


	2. Security Protocol

For the messenger program walking down the currently deserted hall, the cycle couldn't have been any better. She had been trusted by Vis (the System Admin himself!) to deliver something to a program called Chrome. Granted, she didn't know what she was delivering, or who Chrome was exactly, but she knew it was an important job. And the fact that Vis had picked _her_ instead of one of her superiors! A smile crept onto the program's face as she absently hummed a nameless tune and continued her journey to find Chrome.

She was about to turn a corner, when she heard a flurry of footsteps and an urgent voice shouted, "YOU! Stop right there!"

Instantly, she spun around and froze in place. There, coming down the hall at a quick, purposeful pace, was a rather angry looking program. She hadn't seen him in person, but, like all programs, she knew exactly who he was.

Tims. System monitor, head of security, protector of the system, and, if rumors were to be believed, a little… off in the processor. But the user kept him around, so he couldn't be that crazy, right?

As Tims got closer, the messenger program took a half step back. Intentional or not, Tims could be rather alarming up close. With his unbelievably bright orange circuitry and a cape with asymmetrical circuits that appeared as though he'd been struck by lightning and the pattern had stuck.

The cranky monitor planted himself in front of the increasingly nervous messenger and crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl dominating his features.

"Just where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

The messenger blinked and gestured helplessly down the hall, "I-I was delivering something to Chrome."

"And what, may I ask, are you delivering?"

"Uhh… I'm not sure… Vis gave it to me," the messenger shrugged one blue-circuited shoulder.

If anything, the scowl on Tims' face got even more pronounced, "Yes, well, we'll see about that."

The monitor stomped his way over to a control panel and sent a message to Vis. An instant later, Vis' face appeared on the monitor. The admin looked cautiously alarmed, usually Tims only contacted him when there was a problem the monitor couldn't handle on his own.

"What is it, Tims?"

Pointing an orange-lit finger at the messenger, Tims said, "This program says she is delivering Chrome something on your behalf. Is this true?"

Vis paused as his focus shifted to the poor messenger, and then back to the monitor. He nodded and replied simply, "Yes."

Tims looked wholly unconvinced.

Vis sighed, "I felt she now had enough experience to run a delivery to Chrome, as opposed to assigning the duty to one of her superiors. I apologize if you've never met her before, but please let her pass."

Tims made a thoughtful humming sound and then replied, "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask the user. How do I know she isn't going to bring back a virus from Chrome? No one really knows the programs he interacts with. Furthermore, how do I know _you_" he jabbed a finger accusingly at the screen, "aren't infected and are trying to spread a virus? You're using a new messenger, and that in and of itself is out of the ordinary! Suspicious! Unacceptable!"

Circuitry flashing even brighter, Tims forcefully jabbed a set of commands into a panel next to the screen. Vis frowned at the monitor, unable to see what the program was typing.

"What are you doing?" the admin asked.

Tims flashed his superior the briefest of looks, "Asking the user if I should allow this."

Vis resisted the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. After a moment, a soft _ping!_ indicated the user had responded to Tims' urgent message.

A horrified look crossed the monitor's face, "Allow? That can't be right!"

He scowled and keyed in the message again. A ping sounded; allow. He tried again. _Ping!_ Allow. His orange-lit fingers turned into a flurry of motion, retyping the message after every ping sounded. Eventually the area was filled with nonstop pings, and Tims' incessant typing.

"Tims," Vis started. The monitor ignored him.

"Tims." Vis said again, a bit more sternly. The monitor flashed him a glare.

"Tims!" Vis shouted.

"What?" Tims shouted back, throwing his hands in the air.

"Quit pestering the user," Vis warned, "or she may do something drastic."

Tims look as though he was seriously considering his pestering, but then dropped his hands to his sides, "Fine. But you," he whirled around to face the messenger, who jumped in surprise at being addressed so abruptly, "return straight to your station after delivering your message. Don't think I won't know if you don't."

The messenger hurriedly nodded her understanding and promptly took off at a dead run. Tims turned back around as Vis asked, "Anything else?"

Tims replied calmly, "No, that was all."

Vis let his gaze wander to the ceiling as he terminated the communication. Tims frowned at the screen before his attention was caught by a green-circuited program walking down the hall toward him. As soon as the program realized Tims was looking at him, he tried to look at anything _but_ the monitor, thinking that if he didn't make eye contact, the uppity security program would just let him pass.

"Halt, program!"

Oh, how wrong he was.

* * *

><p>An: Another glimpse into the life of my programs. :)

Comments/Critiques always welcomed!


	3. Shockwaves

Tims grumbled to himself as he stalked toward the target of his latest rant. The few other programs in the halls were quick to jump out of his way as he passed, not wanting to make themselves the newest target for the monitor. Upon reaching the proper door, the orange circuited monitor briefly closed his eyes and steeled himself for the disaster that undoubtedly lay on the other side. Jabbing the control with a little more force than was probably necessary, Tims cautiously peered into the room as the door swished open.

Resisting the urge to facepalm, the monitor carefully picked his way through the doorway. A quick glance showed that his target was nowhere in sight – but that didn't mean he wasn't somewhere within the room. Something skittered by on the wall and Tims jumped backwards, disc out and humming with energy; he relaxed only slightly when he realized it was nothing more than a web crawler. Replacing his disc, the monitor took a few more steps into the room, careful not to step on anything too suspicious-looking.

"Chrome!" The shout rebounded around the space for a moment before another voice shouted back in reply.

"I'm in here!"

Following in the direction of the shout, Tims discovered that Chrome had apparently had a _suite_ of offices to make a mess of; he would have to talk to Vis about that.

Rounding the corner into the second room, the monitor had yet to see his target and shouted again. "Chrome! Where in the name of the Users are you?"

A hand waved idly from the left, "Ooover here."

The monitor stomped his way over. "Chrome, we really need to discuss the regulations surrounding yo-"

Yelping, the monitor cut himself off and jumped backwards when he spotted two… _somethings_. "What are _those_?"

Chrome gave the monitor an unconcerned glance before turning back to the scene in the middle of the room. "Shockwaves." He stated by way of explanation.

"Shock… Shock_waves_?" Tims asked, emphasizing the plurality of the word.

The browser nodded, circuitry flashing with barely hidden amusement at the monitor's alarm. An orange circuited hand gestured at the creatures, "Aren't you only supposed to have _one_?"

Chrome chuckled, "Probably." Before the monitor could launch into one of his infamous tirades, he continued, "And I _did_. That one there, the bluish one, is mine. I'm not sure where the other one came from."

His circuits rippled with color as he laughed and turned back to the wrestling match on the floor, wincing when one of the little creatures landed a hit on the other with a solid _WHACK!_

The monitor watched on with a strange, morbid fascination. The two creatures – it didn't feel right calling them programs – were almost identical except for their circuits, one blue, the other green. They were small, with stout little bodies, six legs, and what looked like arrays of antennae on their heads and running in a double row down their backs. He had the sudden urge to pull out his disc and protect himself. Resisting (barely), he asked, "Are they dangerous?"

Chrome's circuits cycled through colors before settling on a kaleidoscope pattern of red and green and he shrugged, "Only to each other. They're kind of creepy looking, but they're sweet little things… Most of the time."

Tims looked as though he'd just ingested something foul. "Well, what are they doing, then?"

"Arguing… I think…" was the uncertain response.

The monitor opened his mouth to say something but stopped when the two Shockwaves launched themselves at each other with an unholy roar. While the move had the potential to be dramatic, the creatures only managed to ram their heads together and crash noisily to the floor. When it became obvious that the two had knocked themselves out Chrome huffed indignantly.

"Well, damn," he groused. "There goes my entertainment for the day."

Tims sputtered, "What do you mean entertainment?"

An arch look was cast to the monitor, "I mean my source of amusement. Now I have to do actual work."

"You… You!" The monitor was clearly at a loss for words and suddenly remembered why he _hated_ dealing with the browsers. He gestured at the creatures on the floor, "Are you just going to leave them there?"

"Wha-? Oh! Oh, they'll be fine here in a moment and go back to cooperating with each other." The browser shrugged with a smirk, "Besides, those antennae are deceptively sharp."

The monitor facepalmed sighing heavily, "Chrome, I honestly have-"

"Oh! Didn't you say we needed to discuss something?"

Tims removed his hand and glared sharply at the bizarrely colored program in front of him. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence the monitor sighed and tossed his data pad at the browser who caught it clumsily. "Just… read that. Memorize it." He turned to head out the door, back to the safety of his clean, _orderly_ portion of the system.

"And _don't_ make me come back here," the monitor tossed over his shoulder.

A low chuckle and the dull thud of something being tossed onto a desk echoed back before he heard Chrome call back, "Whatever you say, O Mighty Monitor."

Orange circuits flared briefly as Tims wondered if other monitors in other systems had to deal with such pretentious, uncooperative programs on such a regular basis.

* * *

><p><em>AN: A little bit of silliness for you introducing Chrome and his... uniqueness._

_Enjoy! And remember: comments and critiques = always welcome!_


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